Tems built one of her biggest records, “Love Me Jeje,” around a Nigerian classic, sampling Seyi Sodimu and Shaffy Bello’s 1997 song of the same title, and won a Grammy for it. Burna Boy has made sampling almost a signature move, reaching back into old records and repackaging them for a new generation; “Last Last” leans on Toni Braxton’s “He Wasn’t Man Enough,” while “Sittin’ on Top of the World” rebuilds around Brandy’s “Top of the World.” Rema borrowed from Sade, lifting the hook of her 1985 hit “Is It a Crime” for his own “Baby (Is It a Crime).” Chris Brown has done it more than once too, including flipping Marvin Gaye’s “Sexual Healing” on his own “Back to Sleep.” Sampling isn’t a shortcut in these cases, it’s a whole creative philosophy: take something the culture already loves, and give it a second life.
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As I have recently started a “Sample Vs Original” content series on TikTok, it hit me that the pool of songs to sample from is a mammoth, yet Ugandan artists are catching on, but slowly.
Speaking of samples, Elijah Kitaka’s “Ekyange” is probably the clearest recent example. Built around Fred Kanyike’s original, the song faced its share of plagiarism accusations when it started climbing the charts, until Kitaka clarified that he had gone through the proper channels, reaching out to Kanyike’s estate and getting the go-ahead before releasing his version. The backlash softened once people understood the paperwork was in order, and “Ekyange” went on to become one of the year’s biggest local hits, a case study in how a well-cleared sample can actually work in an artist’s favor rather than against them.
Kavali King’s “16,” featuring Unity, is another one worth mentioning, drawing from Bobi Wine’s “Caroline” to build something new out of a song many Ugandans already know by heart.
And then there’s Viboyo Oweyo, who recently released “Sirikusuula” alongside Frank Mbalire, sampling the original in a way that, from all accounts, was handled the right way from the start, rights secured, credits in place, no drama trailing the release.
This isn’t even a new instinct, just one that comes and goes. Mesach Semakula’s “Ntongo” gave new life to Dan Mugula’s 2004 original, years before this recent wave, proof that the appetite for reworking familiar songs has always been there. Geosteady did something similar with “Viola,” his remake of the late Elly Wamala’s original, though by his own account, redoing it landed him in some trouble with the rights holders at the time, a cautionary tale for anyone tempted to skip the paperwork. Bobi Wine did the same with the Late Prince Paul Kafeero’s “Dipo Nazigala”.
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Among Juliana Kanyomozi’s most popular tracks is “Diana” which was a cover and reinterpretation of the classic song by the legendary Ugandan artist Philly Bongoley Lutaaya.
Navio took a cleaner route with “Hamadi,” rebuilding around Elly Wamala’s 1996 original and crediting the legend directly as a feature on the track that served as the lead track on his Vibes Out The East album, letting a new generation discover Wamala’s voice through a Navio record.
So the question worth asking is: why aren’t more Ugandan artists doing this?
Uganda’s music catalog is deep. There are records that practically beg to be resampled. Wiplolo’s “Polobanga” feels like it was made for someone like Levixone to reinterpret. “Tindatine” is another one that comes to mind almost immediately, a melody and energy that could easily be reintroduced to a younger audience without losing what made it work the first time.
Part of the hesitation might simply come down to the paperwork. Sampling isn’t just about finding a good hook and rebuilding around it, it involves tracking down rights holders, sometimes a late artist’s estate, negotiating splits, and getting proper sign-off before a single beat is dropped. That process can be intimidating, especially in an industry where publishing administration and rights management are still maturing. It’s far easier to write something entirely original than to chase down who owns what percentage of a song from twenty years ago, particularly when the paper trail on the original masters and publishing isn’t always clean.
That’s exactly why Kitaka’s and Viboyo’s approach matters. Both cases show that the legwork, while tedious, is very much possible in the Ugandan context. Reach out to the estate. Get the agreement in writing. Credit the original writers properly. It’s not a mystery, it’s admin, and once one or two artists demonstrate that it can be done cleanly, it tends to lower the intimidation factor for everyone watching.
There’s also an opportunity cost to consider. Every classic that goes unsampled is a piece of cultural memory that a younger generation may never encounter in its original form. Sampling, done right, isn’t just a creative tool, it’s a form of preservation, it keeps the original writers and performers relevant and, when the paperwork is handled properly, compensated.
Why Sampling Matters
It’s worth spelling out just how much is at stake when an industry under-uses its own back catalog. Sampling, done properly, does three things at once.
First, it preserves culture. Songs that would otherwise fade into old radio archives and forgotten cassette collections get a second life on streaming platforms, TikTok, and playlists where a whole new audience can find them. Without that reintroduction, entire eras of Ugandan music risk being known only to the generation that lived through them the first time.
Second, it bridges generations. A teenager who has never heard of Fred Kanyike can still end up humming his melody because Elijah Kitaka rebuilt it into “Ekyange.” That’s the real value of sampling as a cultural tool, it doesn’t just recycle a song, it hands it down, giving younger listeners a reason to go back and discover the original artist and the era that produced them.
Third, and often overlooked, it can put money in the right pockets. When a sample is cleared properly, with the estate credited and compensated, it turns an old catalog into an active revenue stream again. That matters enormously for aging musicians or the families of artists who have passed on, many of whom saw little in the way of royalties the first time around, especially from an era when publishing and rights administration in Uganda’s music industry were far less structured than they are today. Done right, sampling isn’t extraction, it’s a second payday for work that already proved itself.
If more Ugandan artists and their teams treated sample clearance as a standard part of pre-production rather than an afterthought or a legal headache to avoid entirely, there’s a real possibility this could shift from a handful of standout moments to a genuine trend, one that connects generations of Ugandan music rather than treating the catalog of decades past as untouchable.
The blueprint already exists. Kitaka showed it. Viboyo just showed it again. The rest of the industry just has to be willing to do the homework.